


geography homework

by itisjosh



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Brothers, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Geography, Homework, Idiots (platonically) in Love, No Angst, aka the fic where wilbur loses his goddamn mind, dumbassery, tommy knows exactly what he's doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29546469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: Wilbur knew what he was getting into when he offered to help Tommy with his homework, and yet he did it anyways. He had some amount of faith left.But now, as he sits at the table and listens to Tommy ramble on about how he doesn't even know where Bulgaria is located, he regrets it so fucking much.(or, wilbur helps tommy with his geography homework)
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 27
Kudos: 401





	geography homework

Wilbur knew what he was getting into when he offered to help Tommy with his homework, and yet he did it anyways. He had some amount of faith left, but now, as he sits at the table and listens to Tommy ramble on about how he doesn't even know where Bulgaria is located, he regrets it so fucking much. Wilbur leans back in his chair, rocking himself back and forth, tapping his fingers against the wooden surface of the table. It's sort of a distraction, really. It's preventing his fists from meeting Tommy's face, so it's critical that he keeps doing that, or else Phil will yell at him. Wilbur would like to think that he would never actually hurt his little brother, but sitting with him right now, he doubts that ever so slightly. He would also like to think that he has huge amounts of emotional control and stability and is otherwise very responsible and stable, but Tommy seems to bring out the worst in him, which is saying something. 

"That's France," Wilbur tells his little brother, trying his best to not break down right here and now. "Tommy, that's fucking _France_. That's not even _close_ to South Africa. South Africa is in _Africa_ , Tommy. It's not anywhere near Europe. Why.." Wilbur lets his head hit the table, wrapping his arms around his face. He chokes out a fake sob, though the pain he's feeling is entirely real. "You have to be doing this on purpose, no fucking way that you're not. You're smart, Tommy, there's no way in hell that you actually don't know where France is." 

Tommy laughs, and he laughs in that way that means he's nervous. It's that stupid, awkward laugh, and all it does is pain Wilbur even more, because it means that Tommy _isn't_ joking. To some extent, he probably his. To some extent, he's probably being a little fucking shit who gets his highs off of inflicting pain on Wilbur. But, it also means that there's a part of Tommy that isn't joking, that there's a part of him that is actually just this shit at geography, and that's so much worse than him just being a bitch to Wilbur for the fun of it. "I mean, I'm very smart. I reckon that I'm smarter than you, actually," Tommy tells him, sounding all too casual for the amount of agony he's causing Wilbur. "I think quite a lot, did you know that? I simply use my head all the time, constantly, twenty-four seven. It's a curse, really." 

Wilbur wants to punch Tommy and wants to cry at the same time. He finds himself wanting to do that a lot, and he wonders if that's concerning or not. "Okay," he breathes out, trying to stabilize himself. Tommy is smart, and if he wants Wilbur to actually help him, he's going to have to stop dicking around. "Let's knock out the European countries out of the way first, that should be easy enough," he lifts his head off of the table, picking up the pencil he had before again. He taps it against the table a few times, chewing on the inside of his cheek as a way to distract himself from all the eraser marks that litter Tommy's paper. "What's this country?" Wilbur asks, pointing the pencil's eraser to Luxembourg. "It speaks French and-"

Tommy stares at him, entirely uncomprehending. He looks at Wilbur as if he's grown three heads, and it makes his chest hurt so fucking badly, because that means Tommy just does not understand a single word that's coming from his mouth. Wilbur is going to cry, he's actually going to cry. Teaching _the child_ how to properly identify locations really shouldn't be this hard, but it is. It's so fucking hard, and it's actually going to drive Wilbur insane, he's certain about that, he's actually going to lose his entire mind. "Will, I don't think that I need to know what countries speak _French_ ," Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. "I mean, is that just..France? There could totally be two Frances, right? France square rooted, yeah?" 

Wilbur is going to cry.

"No," he shakes his head, resisting the urge to break down right then and there, and also resisting the urge to murder his little brother. He thinks that both of the things that he wants to do would be justified, and Wilbur is certain that both Phil and Techno would agree with him. No way that they wouldn't. "Tommy, there's no way in fucking hell that you're actually this bad with geography. Have you.." he sighs, tilting his head back. "You've got a word bank! A country bank, if you will! You can pick up on context clues, can't you?" Wilbur stares at him. "Does Kenya sound like it's in Europe?" Tommy beams at him, his eyes shining in that way that means he's about to cause problems, on purpose. Wilbur shouldn't have asked. 

"I mean," Tommy grins, giving him a half-hearted shrug. "It absolutely could be. Who am I to say that it can't?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Tommy is doing this entirely on purpose, he's doing it to get a reaction out of Wilbur, and Wilbur _knows_ that. He's recognised that, he understands that that's what's happening to him, that Tommy is doing this to get a kick out of him. Wilbur is very well aware of this, and yet he's still fucking falling for it, and he thinks that it's because geography really is just his weak spot. It doesn't help that Tommy is all too fucking good at acting oblivious, and Wilbur absolutely despises him for that. "Maybe it's in South America." 

"That's.." Wilbur closes his eyes, pressing his fingers to his temple. "That's closer than Europe, I guess," he has to look on the bright side, he's got to consider the positives. Kenya is arguably closer to South America than it is to Europe, so that's..something. That's a starting point at the very least. That's something he can probably work with. "No. It's in Africa. Did you.." he closes his eyes again, biting down on his tongue for a few seconds. "Does your teacher just fucking suck, or are you just being a bitch?" Wilbur asks, narrowing his eyes at his little brother. "There's no way in hell that he didn't teach you this. No fucking way." 

Tommy shrugs, picking at the eraser on his pencil. "I mean, I quite honestly did not show up half of the time," he admits with a sort-of smile. "I figured I could just get you to do this for me, and I reckon I was right, huh?" He grins, leaning back on his chair. "I've got absolutely no fucking clue where Kenya is located, Big W. Wanna help me out with that? Is it, like.." he sighs. "What shape is it?" Wilbur lets out a noise of pain, feeling his entire world simply collapse around him at the words that Tommy speaks. Tommy does these things on purpose, he does all of it on purpose, and somehow, _somehow_ , he's good at it. He's so good at making Wilbur want to cry and also punch him in the face, and Wilbur's got absolutely no goddamn clue how he manages to do it. Blood magic, probably. 

"What _shape?_ " Wilbur asks, entirely incredulous. "I.." he squeezes his eyes shut, wondering if he can get away with murdering a child. He thinks he could probably survive in prison. The murder would be justified, he thinks. "I guess it's..sort of square shaped?" He offers, and Wilbur doesn't know when he had to reduce countries to basic geometrical shapes. Probably around the time that he agreed to help Tommy with his homework. "Kind of..rhombus shaped, I..I guess?" He looks at Kenya on the map, trying to figure out how to describe the way that it looks well enough that Tommy can figure it out without Wilbur having to do his homework for him. "Do you know what a rhombus looks like, Tommy?" He asks, figuring that it's an extremely important question. Tommy glares at him.

"It's all pointy 'nd shit, yeah?" He raises an eyebrow. "Like a square but not really. I reckon that I know more about rhombuses than you do, bitch." 

"This isn't about-" Wilbur breathes out, wondering how the fuck he got here in his life. "Okay. Fuck it, next one. Italy. That's an easy one, it's got a very distinct shape, it's extremely-"

Tommy points his pencil to Japan. 

Wilbur is going to break down sobbing at any given moment, he's sure of it. 

" _No_ ," he points a finger at Tommy. "Not even fucking close. You're doing this on purpose and I hate you for it." 

Tommy grins at him, his eyes sparkling and shining with mischief and annoyance. He's got the little brother part down fucking perfectly, and Wilbur is going to strangle him because of it, he's positive. "You love me and you know it," he beams, kicking up a leg, nearly knocking over his glass of water that he still hasn't touched. "I'd be very sad if you said you hated me, Will. I think I would simply break down crying and go through a villain arc. You don't wanna know what happens when I go through my villain arc, Wilbur. I might just get _rage_ married, and you _really_ don't wanna know what happens when I get _rage married_." 

Wilbur wants to beat him to death. "Tommy, if you don't shut the fuck up, I'm going to go and get Phil. You don't want to know what happens when I go and get _Phil_ ," Wilbur threatens him, even though he knows that Tommy's not scared of Phil in the fucking slightest. He used to be, and then Phil just started being all nice to him, which Wilbur thinks is bullshit. He thinks that they all should be incredibly mean to Tommy, and he will stand by that idea until the day that he dies. "Okay, come on. Italy, Kenya, Bulgaria-"

"The fuck is a Bulgaria?" 

Wilbur breathes in.

He breathes out. 

His rage does not subside. 

"You're fucking kidding me."

"Not even in the slightest," Tommy tells him. "What the _fuck_ is a Bulgaria? Is that, like, an STD or something? Is that a disease? You know, the _United Kingdom_ sort of actually sounds like an STD, too. Are they both STDs? Is that a thing? Is the Bulgaria STD a thing? I reckon it's like herpes." 

Wilbur lets out a noise of pain. 

He's going to beat the child to death and he's going to do it through his tears and agony. Tommy should not be this good at making him feel nothing but rage, but he is, and Wilbur absolutely hates him for it. Tommy does _not_ need to be this good at making Wilbur speedrun the five stages of grief, all of which are denial. Tommy is doing this on purpose, but is he really? Wilbur hates that he can't tell, and it's quite literally driving him insane. He can't believe that this is where he's ended up in his life, and he thinks that he would pay copious amounts of money to turn back time and be in the same hospital room as Tommy when he was born and strangle the fuck out of that actual goddamn _fetus_. 

"Tommy." 

"Will." 

He raises his hands up to his mouth, closing his eyes. "You're joking." 

"I am not," Tommy says without a beat of hesitation. "Bulgaria, Kenya, United Kingdom, America, Italy.." he trails off. "Fuck if I know where any of those are. I'm actually quite lost on all of this. You know, Will, you're a very shitty teacher," Tommy stands up, pushing in his chair. "I'm actually going to go and play Minecraft now and complain to Philza about you, because you've actually hurt my feelings. Bye bye!"

And then he's gone, his footsteps fading out of hearing range. 

Wilbur looks at the piece of geography homework in front of him, and to ease the pain, he picks up his pencil again. 

After he finishes Tommy's fucking homework, he's going to gorilla glue that motherfucking child to a chair and make him play Geoguessr until he can correctly locate the goddamn _continents_. 


End file.
